Abandoned Driveways

7-Abandoned Drives Lead To Abuse

For some reason, the car wouldn't start. He could hear the engine turning over, but it just wouldn't catch. Kurogane glared at the dull silver metal of the vehicle that had once been his father's, wishing for the first time that he'd taken mechanics instead of kendo.

"Freakin' piece of shit," he growled, leaning on the car with one hand while the fingers of the other dug into his hip. He could feel his eyebrow twitching with irritation, and more than once he had to stop himself from running a greasy hand through his hair.

The rough, throaty sound of an engine pulling up next door drew his attention away from his own vehicle. He looked up to see an old sedan with peeling red paint pulling up to the house. He'd seen it before, but never in motion.

His eyebrows raised in barely expressed surprise as a young man with long, black hair and skin as pale as Fai's stepped out. So that's the cousin, huh? he guessed.

He wasn't prepared for cold, dark eyes to suddenly lock on his over the faded red top of the car. He frowned, feeling an instinctive dislike for this person who somehow managed to look simultaneously detached and smug. His pride refused to let him break the other's gaze, resulting in an impromptu staring contest.

Without warning, the paler of the two smirked. Kurogane blinked, caught off guard.

"Hello," Fai's cousin began smoothly, apparently deciding on the polite approach, "I don't believe we've met. My name is Ashura."

He sounds like a prick, Kurogane decided. Nevertheless, he responded with a gruff "Kurogane."

Something like a smile passed over Ashura's features, although it looked almost bitter and painful. Kurogane, following Ashura's example of etiquette, tried not to scowl.

"I believe you've met my cousin, Fai," he noted flippantly. His voice was carefully offhand, but Kurogane's ears, as observant as his eyes, picked up the threat underneath.

"Yeah?" Kurogane challenged, the word acting as both question and acknowledgement.

Ashura stepped around his vehicle and made his way toward Kurogane, moving with the grace of someone who belonged in high society rather than the rundown house next door. Kurogane straightened up, cautious but trying not to let his aggression show in order to learn more about the man coming toward him.

Ashura stopped a couple feet in front of him, close enough to appear threatening while keeping his distance in case Kurogane acted out. The corner of Kurogane's mouth twitched with a mixture of respect and disappointment. Whatever this man did, he certainly knew how to handle himself.

"I hope he hasn't been bothering you," Ashura told him, and it took Kurogane a moment to realize he was referring to Fai, "I'm afraid he doesn't mind his manners very well."

"And it's your job to keep him in line?" Kurogane asked, his tone barbed.

Instead of flinching or even frowning like Kurogane expected any normal person might, Ashura just flashed him a smooth smile. What was wrong with this family anyway?

"My cousin doesn't always know where to draw the line with his stories," the pale man explained airily, "If he's given you the wrong idea about anything, I apologize." The explanation was so smooth and effortless; Kurogane suspected it had been rehearsed. His smile also gave the appearance of being reassuring, but it was more superficial than Fai's ever-present mask.

Kurogane considered pointing out that his information hadn't come from the stories told by Fai's mouth, but the one painted on his skin. He caught himself at the last moment. If he continued to accuse Ashura, he wouldn't be able to get information from either him or Fai. He wasn't sure if he was impressed by the family's secret-keeping or simply annoyed by it, especially since neither of the men who'd lied to him were particularly good at it. Instead, he shrugged.

Something flickered in Ashura's dark eyes, but his smile stayed firmly in place. "I see," he murmured, taking a step back, "Well, it was…nice to meet you."

Kurogane nodded, and Ashura turned away with a small, flippant wave. Kurogane watched him striding back over the thick green grass strip separating the two houses. It seemed as if he wanted to get away as fast as possible, but he didn't want to let go of any of his dignity as he did so. Kurogane's lip curled. He couldn't stand anyone who held their pride above the welfare of others.

When the door finally closed behind the man, Kurogane looked away. He glanced at his car's engine one last time before giving up with a sigh, slamming the hood shut.

He stepped back into the house, taking a moment just inside the door to take a deep breath and organize his thoughts. The slamming of the door seemed to echo in the silence of the house around him. He wasn't sure why, but the place had seemed a lot less friendly since that annoyance had moved in next door. It was still his home, still a place to be comfortable and relax with a beer or two, but it seemed somehow…empty.

For a moment, he let himself imagine what it would be like to have Fai around more often. The first thing that came to mind was "annoying"—he quickly banished the idea, trying to thing a little deeper than that. The next thing that came to mind was that he would be able to protect Fai better. The fact that he couldn't help him now made his heart ache, something he hadn't felt in several years. It made him uncomfortable and he shook the thought away, deciding it really wasn't something he wanted to deal with right now.

He lifted his hand to run it through his hair again, his usual way of dealing with stress, and barely caught himself when he saw the black smears of greases streaked across his palm. He frowned, wondering just how close he was to becoming as scatter-brained as the idiot next door or even Sakura.

As he scrubbed the grease from his hands, his mind wandered back to the little girl down the street. It had been a while since he'd seen her, and from what he'd heard from Tomoyo, she'd seemed tired lately. He hated to sound like a sap, but he wondered if maybe it was time to host some kind of little party at his house in the near future. Everyone seemed to need a release from stress at the moment.

Scoffing at his own idea, Kurogane shook his head to clear it. His gaze landed on his fridge, fully stocked for once. However, the thought of shopping brought to mind the woman he'd been seeing lately downtown and their "trade."

Feeling a little calmer and more objective, Kurogane slid into one of the little-used chairs at his kitchen table. There was a small, blank pad of paper on the table, and he pulled it toward himself along with the pen next to it. He tapped the tip of the pen on the snowy expanse of the paper, leaving behind tiny, dark stains as he thought.

What could he do to make Fai comfortable? He had a long way to go before the blond could even begin to trust again, but he had to start somewhere. He suspected he had already glimpsed more than Fai usually let his acquaintances see, which was a start.

The paper was still blank several hours later, when loud meowing from the front porch alerted him to the presence of Sakura's white cat, Mokona.

"What does that thing want now?" Kurogane grumbled with the attitude of someone who had been hard at work.

He strode quickly through the dark house, noticing for the first time how late it was—streetlights lit up stripes across his floor as their yellow-orange beams peeked through his blinds. He didn't bother to turn a light on as he opened the door. He'd heard stories about men waiting on dark porches to attack, but he felt he could handle it if anything was waiting on the other side of the door with Mokona.

He opened the door just a crack, expecting the cat to slip through the opening as he usually did. When he didn't, Kurogane opened the door wider to see what kept him from doing so. The view on the porch surprised him.

Fai sat on the steps of his porch, his head down and his shoulders slumped. The light of the closest streetlight caught his hair, which looked stringy and unkempt. His shirt looked too loose on his slight frame, making Kurogane wonder if he'd lost weight. Mokona pressed against the boy, but the blond didn't respond. The whole scene caused Kurogane's heart to leap to his throat.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, more harshly than he might have if he'd taken the time to think about it.

Fai jumped and spun around, looking up at Kurogane with wide, vulnerable blue eyes.

"I…he began, but he seemed at a loss for words. The two didn't move for a few moments, just staring at each other. Finally, Kurogane took a step back into his house.

"Come on in," he sighed, though there was no real exasperation in his voice.

"Are you sure?" Fai asked hesitantly, more uncertain than Kurogane had ever seen him. He was about to snap at the blond when his eyes picked up a new patch of dark discoloration along Fai's jaw.

His own jaw clenched, then relaxed. He tried not to let the disgust he felt affect the way he treated the fragile boy.

"Yeah," he said softly. Still hesitant, Fai stood and made his way over to Kurogane. He paused for a moment, not looking at the darker-haired man.

"Thank you," he whispered. Kurogane grunted noncommittally, but blushed. He wasn't sure he'd ever been more grateful for darkness.

Kurogane followed him into the house. The blond settled himself on the edge of the couch, still averting his eyes.

Kurogane didn't say anything. He knew Fai wouldn't open up without prompting, but he didn't have the heart to pry while the blond looked so fragile. Instead, he crossed his arms and watched Fai from where he leaned against the wall directly opposite the couch.

Fai didn't look at him for a moment. Instead, his blue eyes ran nervous sweeps along the edge of the coffee table, though Kurogane doubted he was actually seeing the dark wood in front of him.

When the silence had dragged on long enough to make the host uncomfortable, he cleared his throat. Fai jumped as if he had forgotten he wasn't alone, and the usual fake smile spread almost instinctively over his paler-than-usual features.

Kurogane sighed and straightened up, pulling himself away from the wall. While Fai watched with a blank expression and guarded eyes, he made his way over to the couch where the blond sat and perched on the arm, facing the target of his protective instincts.

"What are you going to do?" Kurogane asked when the silence had dragged on beyond his liking.

Fai looked surprised by the question; his blue eyes widening before he quickly regained control of his expression. "What do you mean, Kuro-chii?" he asked, his tone bright with false curiosity.

Kurogane frowned, his lips narrowing into a thin, hard line. His red eyes burned into Fai's cool blue ones, wordlessly pressing for an answer. The blond's eyes shifted uncomfortably, but his body remained motionless.

Finally, Kurogane sighed and leaned forward, invading Fai's personal space.

"Look," he began, his voice barely above a rough growl, "I can't help you if you don't tell me how."

The false cheer left Fai's face, but the curve of his lips remained. He smiled sadly at Kurogane, but it didn't reach his eyes. The look came as close as anything ever had to scaring Kurogane—it looked so dangerously empty. The urge to take Fai into his arms struck him, but he resisted it.

"You live here alone, right?" Fai asked suddenly.

Kurogane frowned, not understanding the sudden change of subject. He sat back, watching Fai with the same guarded expression the other had given him only moments before. He had no idea where the blond was going with this. Finally, he gave a short, quick nod.

Fai opened his mouth to ask something else, but seemed to think better of his words and hesitated. Then his expression hardened, and he asked, "What about your parents?"

Kurogane's stomach lurched; he hadn't expected the conversation to take such a personal term. He had to admit that he couldn't really blame Fai though. After all, Kurogane had been trying to get into his head for weeks now, even months. "They're not around anymore," he replied quickly, his voice rough.

"But you loved them, right? You'd do anything for them, right?" Fai asked. Now he was the one leaning into Kurogane's bubble of personal space, and cerulean eyes probed crimson.

"Of course," Kurogane snapped. He was about to question where this line of interrogation was going when Fai suddenly leaned back, distracting him.

"Then you should understand," Fai told him quietly, smiling sadly down at his lap.

Kurogane blinked. At first he didn't see what Fai meant, but before he could say anything, the idea clicked. It was Fai's loyalty to his family that kept him from turning on them and trying to leave. He was on his own it that—abused by his cousin, practically abandoned by addicted parents, and probably feeling like he had to protect his younger sister.

They sat in silence for a several long moments.

"Ah, I think it's time for me to go," Fai chirped suddenly, disrupting the pensive mood that permeated the room. He hopped to his feet, cheer firmly back in place, and nearly skipped to the door. Kurogane watched him go, feeling conflicted but not saying a word. Fai waved when he reached the door, then pulled it open and disappeared into the darkness.